Review: 'Portland 2010: A Biennial Exhibition of Contemporary Art'

Bruce Ely, The OregonianA replica of a big old truck by Crystal Schenk and Shelby Davis is one of the first works visitors encounter at Disjecta, one of the sites for its “Portland 2010” exhibitions. A gorgeously imposing longhorn steer skull made out of quartz crystals and borax by Crystal Schenk.

There's a lot to dissect, luxuriate over and connect with in the exhibit at Disjecta's North Portland space, works by five artists and artist teams that are part of the nonprofit's guerrilla take on the Oregon Biennial, "Portland 2010: A Biennial Exhibition of Contemporary Art."

But the connections in the show at the Disjecta space are too slim, and the work that's offered is absent of adequate context. Featuring one or two pieces at most by each artist and team, the show's a series of quick glimpses at several intriguing names. But not much more.

Indeed, this show that's just one part of Disjecta's Oregon Biennial project -- eight shows at different venues featuring 18 artists and artist teams -- may not be as strong as the project's other exhibits. Yet it could nonetheless serve as a metaphor for the entire endeavor curated by Cris Moss and funded by Disjecta. The curator hasn't fully argued his case. This particular show seems merely a celebration of worthwhile talent.

Biennial type shows can be so many things that they never satisfy anyone. But no matter what it is, it should debate a relationship between the selected artists and the world beyond their private studios.

There's not much beyond the characterization that each artist is what Moss describes as among the most "important" in Portland during the past decade. That may be accurate. But what do they collectively declare, for example, about art in Portland? What's driving this energy and why?

True, a catalogue about the project will be published later this year -- but with an essay penned by Chas Bowie, a contributor to The Oregonian. Moss' reticence might feed the impression that he's merely assembled a survey in Whitney Biennial fashion, where curators pick artists instead of relying on an application process, which is the way the Portland Art Museum long approached The Oregon Biennial before dropping it altogether several years ago.

That's disappointing. Because the artists showing at Disjecta are art figures of varying levels of importance whose reputations and standing should be critically evaluated. They deserve thoughtful perspective.

Conkle, Lucas, Corbett, and Healy, for example, are either near or just past mid-career and are building upon their respective vocabularies in a way that will make their future work a fascinating investment. Schenk and Davis are young artists who have just emerged. Holt, the only dance choreographer picked by Moss for the entire project, is part of a post-2000 performance generation that continues the city's serious modern dance tradition.

Moss' lack of a critical argument resonates in other unintended ways because some of the work has been exhibited elsewhere and recently, too. Conkle and Lucas staged their concept-laden, quasi send-up of baroque ornamentation, "Warlord Sun King," little more than a year ago at the Art Gym at Marylhurst University. Schenk and Davis' installation of a tractor trailer, "West Coast Turnaround," filled up the space at Milepost 5 just this past winter.

Which means only a handful of work in this already slender gathering has yet to be witnessed by most of the public. Healy's collage of cigarette filters and a group of colorful brick-shaped objects made out of perhaps cast glass subtly evokes both the fond memories and health hazards of the General Motors plant once located in the artist's New York state hometown.

Corbett's drawings of glass houses have that pristinely mathematical quality that architectural-style drawings possess. But a sculpture perhaps inspired by one or all of the drawings and intended to symbolize the lack of authorial control the building process often assumes seems too thought out with its black enamel coated to such excess that it resembles the texture of dripping chocolate. Or, in this case, crude oil.

Schenk's longhorn steer skull re-interprets the artist's youth in the rural wilderness. We'll have to wait and see how Holt's "Culture Machine," inspired by the director Werner Herzog, will jolt us when it debuts April 23-25.

So, what do these several artists have in common? Memories of personal history, the environment, a love of cars, and a few other things, perhaps.

In other words, lots of ideas but not a whole that's greater than the sum of the parts.